


The Truth

by MelsonCatfish96



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelsonCatfish96/pseuds/MelsonCatfish96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Jack Twist never really died? What if he couldn't remember anything? Ennis must help Jack remember what happened. But is the truth more painful than the lie? Which will give Ennis and Jack their happy ever after and which will destroy them forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Day

The high noon sun bore down upon the earth with great intensity. The green of summer leaves rippled in the breeze that blew through the trees. Other than that little whisper or air that had no effect on the high temperatures, the world was silent. Everything had it's place and all things were where they ought to be. The breeze blew a little harder for the slightest second, causing a wave effect on the grass behind the small house that sat comfortably next to a large barn where a few livestock were kept. To north of the miniature grass field, a small woods could be seen. It didn't go on for long, the woods. And hardly anyone stumbled upon the field or disturbed the livestock. Hardly anyone came up here any more, there was no need.

The owner of the small barn knew few people and of the few he did know, only one truly cared for him enough to hardily ever visit. Ennis del Mar's life had led him to where he was now. Sat in the kitchen of the small one bedroomed house and what he liked to think of as his own private world. There was barely any profit made from the life he lead. Sure, he'd sell a pig or two to a butcher's or he would sell the eggs that he didn't need. Small things like this allowed him to keep the lights on and the water running. He didn't like the fact that he had to sell what he worked hard to care for but he had to live. Groceries were also bought with the money. He had considered expanding his land but he knew he wouldn't be able to work it all himself. If he did something to his back, he would be in no fit state to look after himself. And Ennis didn't want to be around workers. He preferred the quiet.

Ennis inhaled deeply and held his breath for a moment, listening to his heart beat in his ears. The breaking of the deafening silence proved he was still alive. He wasn't dead, not yet.

The hours blended together as Ennis spent the rest of the day feeding the animals in his care and cleaning the stables and pens. His life had become a little monotonous but Ennis didn't care much for excitement. He was okay with being okay. Men like him didn't deserve to be happy. He had had a taste of that honey-sweet life and it was all taken from him. Ennis' eyes began to sting when he thought of the past and all that he had lost. It had been over a year and a half since he had lost him but the pain still felt fresh as a knife to the chest whenever Jack Twist entered his thoughts.

Unfortunately for Ennis, Jack appeared behind his eyelids and in his dreams far too often.

He shook his head and freed his mind and eyes of any trace of emotion. No one should see him like this. Then again, no one ever would.

The night was creeping into the sky and the warmth of the summer day was being replaced with the cold of the summer night. Ennis returned to his bedroom. There was little in the mediocre sized room: a double bed for only one to sleep in, a desk with a chair pushed against the wall that never was used, a small cupboard where Ennis kept his clothes and shoes, a photo on a night stand beside the bed and a lamp behind the photo. There was no light in the room other than the lamp. It wasn't as though the house hadn't been built with lights, it was just that this room's lighting had stopped working and Ennis didn't think it a matter of dire importance to fix the light of a room he hardly spent time in.

Turning on the lamp ignited the room. The blazing glow shone through the lampshade with powerful intensity. Sliding his jacket off his body and onto the back of his chair, Ennis sighed quietly. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, in no rush to visit his past in his sleep. Once that was placed over the chair on top of the jacket, Ennis kicked off his boots and slid out of his jeans. After removing his socks, he placed them in a small basket next to the desk where the clothes too dirty to re-worn would go. Ennis, feeling the cold air on his skin, crawled into bed. Resting his head on the pillow, taking up only one half of the space available, Ennis studied the photograph in the frame. It was of the place he most wanted to be in the whole entire world and the place he knew he would never revisit.

Ennis clicked the light out and leaned back in bed on his back, facing the ceiling. He closed his eyes and pictured the perfect place to which he knew his subconscious would take him. He thought of Jack and of the grass and the water and of the sweet air. The memory made him smile slightly but with the smile came a tear. Only small but with it came all of the pain that Ennis wouldn't let see the light of day.

So here, alone in the darkness, Ennis del Mar allowed himself to be taken to a place where bluebirds sing and there's a whiskey spring...

The light of the setting sun warmed Ennis' skin as he rested, eyes closed. He opened them the smallest fraction to see a pink mixing with a deep blue in the heavens. His lips pulled into a wide, bright smile and he allowed his lids to open all the way. Out of the corner of his eye, Ennis spotted a silent Jack looking up at him with something like wonder. Ennis turned on his side so that he was face to face with the other man, his already wide smile becoming a brilliant grin. His happiness was reflected in Jack's eyes threefold.

Something swelled in Ennis' chest. It was like a balloon that was set to burst free any second. It was almost as though he wanted to tell Jack something but never could. His lips wouldn't open. And even if they did he was sure that no sound would come out. Instead Ennis settled for silent happiness. Words would just sour the moment anyway.

Jack moved in closer to Ennis. Burying his head in Ennis' chest, he made a sound like a content sigh. No. Although it seemed as though it was more than content. It was happy, blissful, relaxed. Everything was perfect. Utopian. Heavenly.

Ennis pressed his lips to the top of Jack's head and held them there for a long moment, not wanting to stop his loving connection to the other man. He closed his eyes, trying to make the moment last an eternity. Trying to force this instant, this feeling, this...everything to last forever. But the man's wishful thinking was halted by a damp sensation on his chest. His first though was that Jack was crying. He quickly yet carefully moved to make sure he was okay. Ennis was going to protect Jack and everything they had together no matter what. But what he saw was a sigh that made every part of him churn in pain and with sickness.

Jack lay there, what skin visible through the crimson ocean was pale. Many wounds made his face misshapen. There were bruises too. Up and down both his forearms. The skin on his knuckles was split and red, bleeding in places. He'd fought of his attacker but they had been to great in strength or number, or both, for one man to handle. And he, Jack fucking Twist, fought them alone.

All of Ennis' entire being screamed to turn away from the sight. To run, screaming. To hunt down those responsible and make them pay for what they did. Make them feel just a fraction of what he knew Jack had felt, what he was feeling now. The man's eyes returned once more to the bloody sight before him. He noticed something he hadn't before: a blue orb was looking up at him, still a spark of life held within, intent on hanging on to what delusion of hope that existed in the man's mind.

There was something else too, something that made Ennis unbelievably uneasy. Jack was begging. He was pleading for Ennis to help him, to hold him, to love him. When Ennis tried to voice shaky reassurance, nothing came. He tried again, panic rising up within him.

It seemed that the more Ennis struggled with the sudden silence that he found impossible to break the darker the sky became. All that he could feel was his own heart in his throat. He couldn't see anything. Not even Jack who was, only a moment ago, right before him. The darkness surrounded him. It took away the air and the sky and the stream and the ground.

Ennis was falling.

Falling so very far.

That's when he awoke, his breath coming in fast and heavy. His face wet, eyes still running.

Ennis pulled his knees up to he chest, not caring that the room's temperature wasn't right for just sitting in underwear. Because Ennis wasn't just sitting. No. He was searching. Searching his head and his heart. Searching all that he could think of. All of it. Everywhere. For a reason. A reason to continue when the sun rose in the east in a few hours. A reason to live.

There was no real answer, no real reason for him to carry on with this ache in his very being, his every move an echo, a memory of what once was. He tried to think that he lived for his daughters but visits from anyone were few and far between.

So there he sat, crying into his closely held knees. His sobs echoed around he emptiness of the room reminded him of just how alone he was. How desperate for love. For Jack.

The moon slowly made it's way into the darkness where it would hide until Ennis woke from another nightmare in which he was helpless, silent and alone. Ennis rested on his side, still in a foetal position. He lay there complete darkness for hours, unable to work up the energy to even attempt to stop the flowing from his eyes or wipe what they had caused yet unable to sleep. There would be no sleep this night. Or the next night. Or the night after that. There would be no sleep for Ennis del Mar until the final rest.

It was a few hours time until the sun broke through the window pane and light the room, dimly at first. But as the light become more intense, and the air warmer, Ennis realised that he had been shaking all night long. I wasn't surprising, the cold could do that to an almost naked man.

Ennis heaved a great sigh as he began to unwrap his arms from his other limbs.

Another day of work. Another day of living. Another day of trying to pretend that the pain didn't hurt.

Another day.


	2. Him

The same seat at which Ennis sat every morning awaited him when he finally made his way downstairs. Everything was the same. So monotonous. But still Ennis didn't complain, didn't stop, didn't find a way out because there was nowhere for him to turn. Alma Junior and her husband had visited just once together. Her husband, Kurt, never came again. Junior had visited again and said she would soon but soon never came.

Ennis knew that she still loved him, even after her mother had told her and her sister what she had discovered about Ennis and his 'fishing trips'. The time she had come to visit alone she had asked and he had told. She was understanding and even cried when Ennis failed to keep hold of the little shred of strength that he'd been clinging to for dear life. She held his tired paws in her soft, youthful hands. Together they prayed for love. Although the words that passed Ennis' lips were empty, God didn't like men like him, he felt the faith Junior held and the emotion behind her words. She cared for this man whom her father loved and who she hardly knew. But she knew that he had made Ennis happy and anyone who did that deserved every ounce of love and respect that she could spare.

After the prayer and an offer of money, which Ennis refused to even consider, she left. It was hard to watch her drive away. Ennis somehow knew that it would be longer than a lifetime until they spoke once more. Kurt was a nice guy but he, like most of the world, didn't consider what Ennis was, who he was, to be natural. Ennis couldn't blame him. It was the way he was raised. Hell, Ennis would be just the same if he were in Kurt's position.

Sighing, Ennis walked past the empty table and took a loaf of sliced bread from the cupboard and placed two slices in the spaces in the toaster. He replaced the loaf and left the toaster to do what a toaster does and make his breakfast. In no rush, Ennis took a packet of butter from the fridge and placed it near the toaster with a butter-knife. After filling a glass with water, Ennis drank slowly. He placed the glass of water on the counter top with a careful deliberateness and looked out of the window to the woods.

His mind was full of nothing. No thoughts. No plans. No ideas. No dreams. As he stared absently into the mass of trees, an image jumped to the front of his mind. The image that had woken him. The image that had caused his whole dream world to go to Hell. Jack. His face distorted and bloody. Without realising, Ennis had clamped his hand to the side of the sink. His eyes had also began to sting again. It took the sound of the toaster to make him realise he was on the edge of releasing tears and thereby weakness into the day for all to see.

Shaking his head, Ennis moved to butter his toast and sit with it at the table. Staring down at the two slices of toasted bread, Ennis cast his mind back to when he and Alma were still together. When he used to make her and the kids bacon and eggs. When they used to sit, with coffee and talk and laugh. When things used to be good. When, just for a moment at least, his head wasn't full with thoughts of missing Jack Twist.

Ennis took large bite of his breakfast with the hope that if he tried to ignore all memories of what he had, of what he felt for Jack, then the pain would be gone too. It didn't work. It never did. Ennis never thought himself a fool for trying though. Around here there was little to do but remember and repress. At least the pain reminded him that he was still alive. That he still had a heart to break.

In time, Ennis had eaten both slices and finished the last bit of water that remained in the glass. Once the glass was rinsed clean, dried and place back where he had taken it from, Ennis moved to the door. Time to get to work.

A few hours passed and Ennis returned to the kitchen. Sitting, he retrieved a book that he had bought on his last trip into town a few miles down the road. It wasn't really interesting, a story about some guy and his dog, but Ennis found that it made the time pass by quicker. Anything to make the time move quicker.

It was in moments like this, when his eyes were just running along the same line and not really reading the words, that Ennis began to reconsider his life. He had chosen this life of exile and so couldn't complain about the loneliness. But from time to time an anger filled Ennis until he could barely stand it. An anger at the world. At society for teaching hate because of something he couldn't help. Hating him for who he was. For who he loved. Ennis wasn't evil. Or vindictive. Or murderous. And yet the world feels the need to ruin everything he has and for what? There's no valid reason.

Except there was.

He was a sinner. And sinners like him didn't deserve to be happy.

But Ennis couldn't help who he was. That's why he no longer went to Church or prayed. The Lord hated him and there was nothing Ennis could do to change that. Nothing at all. So instead he decided to live his life alone. Ennis didn't deny the existence of God, of course. But he did acknowledge that he had to live without the divine.

These thoughts clouded Ennis' head so much that he almost missed the heavy knock at the kitchen door. It was only when the stranger knocked again that he looked up from the line in his book with a confused expression.

Ennis' first thought was that Junior had come again like she said she would. As Ennis set his book down on the wooden surface of the table, open pages down, another knock sounded. It was too loud, too strong to be the delicate yet firm knock of his daughter. Then who?

Maybe someone had come to sell him something? Or maybe talk to him about God? Or perhaps it was someone trying to buy from Ennis? In any case, he wasn't interested. He considered opening the door and telling them to go away without listening to what they had to say. He stood with a sigh that could've been mistook for one of frustration. Ennis' brow creased as he tried to think of more people it could be. But there was little time for that as he reached the door and saw the shape of a man through the netting that, along with the dirty window pane, separated Ennis and the stranger.

The shape was familiar. The way it stood, shifting it's weight patiently. It was so familiar that Ennis could feel his heart at the back of his throat. His eyes started to itch slightly. At that feeling Ennis mentally told himself to stop being stupid and answer the door. The man obviously wanted to talk to Ennis and he was stood there, gawking at ghosts and similarities.

He turned the handle slowly, in no rush to get back to doing nothing at all. Slowly, he opened the door, looking down at the ground, a slight frown on his face.

His eyes made there way to the feet of the stranger and then up his dirty blue jeans, his white shirt and brown jacket also covered in dirt. Ennis' eyes slowly made their way to the face, taking in the features. There was stubble on the man's face and his hair, though not long at all, was a mess. Dirt and leaves nested there. The man's skin was darker than it ought to be thanks to the dried earth there. If it were not for the eyes, Ennis would've just though his mind was playing cruel tricks on him. Because this man was so familiar.

But those eyes. Those sky blue orbs that glistened in the light of the sun and with something more. Something like recognition. Something like knowing. Something like happiness.

But were it not for his eyes. Those eyes. Ennis was so lost in their beauty that he almost forgot where he was. Who he was.

"H- Hello?" The man's voice was low and slightly timid. It was almost as if his own mind was trying to put pieces together just as Ennis' was. Only Ennis' mind already had the pieces in place. They didn't click together though. They just hovered, logic preventing them from coming together. But the voice that came from the man's mouth pushed the pieces in place despite logic. The voice, the voice that echoed in his head for an eternity, ricocheting off of every memory Ennis had, bring all of them to the front of his mind to demand his attention.

Ennis noticed that his brow was still creased and his eyes narrowed in confusion at the man in front of him. He worked against the current of memories that were trying to drag him to a place where he would relive all of them and forced his face blank. Though he knew that his eyes gave away every emotion that he felt at that moment. All of them. The pain, the anger, the confusion, the joy and, above all else, the love.

"Sir?" The man repeated with patience, though his eyes spoke of hidden desperation. "Are you all right?" The man's confusion was clearly visible in his face.

It took Ennis a short while to be able to pull his heart down and make room for words to travel. "Y- Yeah." Failing with focusing his mind, Ennis asked the first question that came to mind without rephrasing it to sound more polite: "What d'you want?"

The man cleared his throat before answering. "I didn't mean to disturb you, it's jus'-" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm awful dirty and I've been walkin' for miles." His eyes, those eyes, showed the light of truth. If it had been anyone else, anyone else at all, Ennis would have turned them away, told them to go disturb someone else.

But those eyes.

There was no doubt in Ennis' mind: it was him. The only thing that Ennis' mind was trying to figure was whether this man was really there or just a figment of his tired imagination. The former was what he hoped for but the latter was the only explanation reality would allow.

Ennis shook himself as he tried to clear his head. What should he do? Invite him in? Let him get cleaned up? No. that was stupid. He wasn't real. He couldn't be.

"Sure, c'mon in..." Ennis moved out of the way, his frown returning as he attempted to process why exactly he was just letting him into his home.

Because it's him! Ennis' mind urged him.

"Thank you." He was humble with his words and removed his Stetson before crossing the threshold of Ennis home.

As he moved past Ennis into his home, a waft of a smoke and dirt and sweat hit Ennis' nose, sending his mind into overdrive. He remembered that scent. He remembered the place where he'd smelt it. The person he'd smelt it on. The person standing in his kitchen at that moment.

Ennis closed the door and allowed a silence to fall as he thought. Clearing his throat, Ennis looked at the other man and said: "There's towels upstairs and I'm pretty sure there'll be some hot water for a bath or somethin'. You can get yourself cleaned up."

The man nodded with a smile. A smile Ennis only allowed himself to remember at the moments of greatest weakness. When he woke in the night, cold, alone and shaking, it would be that very smile that would bring him back to life. Warm him to the very core. Make him smile away the tears. That stretch of the lips and eyes looking through lashes. That almost shy smile. It warmed him right then too, making him return the smile.

"Thank ya very much." The voice was quieter but closer so Ennis' ears caught the words almost as though they'd been whispered against his skin.

Ennis lead the man up the stairs and to the small bathroom across the wooden floored hall from his room. "Well," Ennis began, still trying to make sense of the situation he found himself in, "here you go."

The door was already open so Ennis just gestured to the room, letting the other man find his way. He nodded with another shy smile of thanks. He closed the door slowly behind him, allowing the tiredness he'd been no doubt carrying for so long to show at last. Once Ennis heard the click of the door closing, he returned to the kitchen.

Still smiling slightly, Ennis took the book from the table, open pages aginst the wooden surface. He place the make shift bookmark, a torn piece of paper, back in place and returned the book on the shelf.

Ennis then stood, unsure what to do with himself and still slightly confused about what had just happened. Where it not for the creaking pipes as clean water rushed through them to the room upstairs, Ennis would've sworn that he'd imagined the whole thing. He still could be imagining, for all he knew!

But Ennis didn't think so. He knew that the man upstairs in his bathroom was really real. No matter how much logic screamed otherwise.

The warm sting and slight squeeze just bellow his chest brought him back into reality where the sound was still echoing through the silent kitchen. The house seemed alive for the first time since Ennis hand moved here. The other entity within it's walls brought with him a new light, a new hope.

"Jack fuckin' Twist." Ennis whispered the words, barely audible. At the sound of the name, finally spoken, Ennis' face took on a new shape. The tears ran from his eyes to the ground beneath his feet. Ennis steadied himself on the chair at which he had been sat, quiet and alone only a few minuets ago. Now he was crying real tears of joy, his heart lighter than the air itself!

It was impossible, but Jack had to be real.

He had to be.


	3. Confirmation

Ennis had been sitting alone in the silence for a short while now. He didn't hear the sound of the water draining from the bathroom or the opening of the door. Nor did he acknowledge the sound of uncertain footsteps on the landing. His mind was elsewhere.

Jack Twist. It had to be him. But he didn't seem to know who Ennis was. He didn't take Ennis in his arms. Didn't kiss him. Didn't even call him by his name. Hell, he didn't even use his own name. He didn't even introduce himself! If he couldn't remember Ennis, or even himself for that matter, why did he just walk into the house and take a bath. If Jack didn't know who Ennis was, how come he needed no more than a 'yes' to use this stranger's water?

Ennis could feel the strain in the muscles of his forehead as they tightened subconsciously in confusion. He immediately relaxed them and let out the breath he had been holding for God knows how long. He stood, allowing the blood to travel to his head before he moved to the kitchen counter. Looking out of the window, Ennis felt the web of confusion threading itself around him once again. He shook the feeling off and made his way to the bottom of the stairs. Looking up, he saw the bathroom door open slightly. Jack had finished in the bathroom and was probably stood clean, hair still wet in dirty clothes.

Moving slowly up the stairs, Ennis tried to fight off the thoughts that doubted Jack's existence. In his mind's eye, Ennis could see the images that he had conjured when he first heard the news of Jack's 'death'. The blood. The vultures that circled him all wielding weapons that they lay into him time and time again. Jack trying to escape them. Him lying broken. Dead.

Ennis forced the burning in his eyes away with the memory of his thoughts as he made it to the top of the stairs and poked his head around the bathroom door. The air was warm but there was no Jack in the room. He turned towards his bedroom with a frown. For a moment, Ennis' heart dropped and his throat closed up so tight he was fearful that he might never breath again. He began to panic a little. If Jack wasn't in the bathroom then Ennis may just fabricated his return. The loneliness had finally drove him insane. Junior had warned him of that. She told him if he was alone long enough, his head would start playing tricks. He didn't believe her. Perhaps he should have listened to her warning. But it was too late now. He'd cracked.

Slowly, painfully, Ennis made his way back to his room. He had finally been given that which he had wished for with all his being. Since that phone call, all Ennis hoped for was to see Jack one more time. And he had. He had looked into those blue eyes. Heard that voice once more.

What Ennis felt as he dragged himself towards his bedroom, though, was real. He could feel his limbs go numb, the painful sting in the corners of his eyes, legs begin to tremble slightly. No amount of will power, no amount of inner strength could stop him falling apart. Nothing could. He feel the himself filling with painful heat, caged but burning it's way through it's confines. He could feel himself dying and nothing could save him.

Nothing except the sound of another pair of lungs working at a quick pace. He knew it wasn't him. There was enough of his mind working to notice there was no match between the rapid rising and falling of his own chest and the breathing of another coming from the room just a few feet in front of him.

Ennis stood tall, stopping himself from making any sound. Not allowing himself to move or breath so he could determine whether the other being in the house was actually there. The breathing continued in the silence and only when Ennis' pulse became loud in his ears did he close the distance between him and the room in which he was sure Jack would be stood.

The door was open and the daylight from outside illuminated every corner of the mediocre sized room. Ennis was careful about how he entered: slow but not deliberately quiet. It was as though he was trying not to scare Jack. As though Jack were an innocent animal that would flee at the first unexpected sound for fear of being caught and killed.

Ennis kept his eyes on the floor, unable to allow himself to either confirm or deny Jack's return. Jack's existence. Jack's life. As he walked, though, a pair of bare feet entered his line of vision. Ennis' subconscious forced his eyes upward to reveal a pair of muscular legs hidden beneath a white towel that had been wrapped around Jack's waist. Ennis' eyes ran up the tanned skin on the other man's back to the place where neck and back met. He stood silently and watched Jack with a worried and almost uncertain expression.

Something about him was different. They was he stood? How silent he had been? How he had just accepted the offer of a bath without introducing himself? Ennis didn't know for sure. There was just...something.

It was Jack, Ennis was sure. But was he the same Jack that Ennis had met all those years ago on Brokeback? The Jack Ennis loved? His Jack?

No. Ennis knew that Jack had changed since the two had shared a drink in a bar before starting their work on Brokeback. Life had changed him. Made him bitter. But Ennis still loved him. Ennis could still see that sweet Jack he had met so many years ago: the Jack that smiled almost shyly, looking up through his lashes. He knew that Jack was untouchable. That Jack was his.

But which Jack was this?

Ennis shook his head, attempting to give some order, some structure, some sense to the day's events. Clearing his throat, he took a small step forward, forcing himself not to embrace Jack like he had done when they had first been reunited. Not to kiss him deeply and passionately as he had done that day. Not to give in to what he felt so completely, so without resistance or care for onlookers. But it was difficult to do so and the second between him making a sound and Jack turning to face him, slightly startled, seemed like a lifetime of unbearable agony.

Those blue orbs locked with Ennis' warm brown globes and it seemed that everything that had happened was gone and they were just two young men trying to find work once more. For a moment they stood, unblinking and silent, each marvelling the other's eyes. Ennis would have been happy to spend the rest of the day and night like that, just...looking. He would have given anything he owned to not have to discuss reality. To remain in Jack's eyes. He would have done anything to remain lost in those sapphire pools.

Reality, however, had different plans. The brief sound of the wind picking up for the slightest moment was enough to make Jack blink away the light of recognition that had been present and was growing stronger with every moment that passed.

"Erm-" Jack started awkwardly. "Th- Thank you for lettin' me use your bathroom-" It seemed almost as though Jack was about to call Ennis by his name but couldn't remember it. Like each time he reached for it, it slipped a little farther away.

"No problem." Ennis spoke quietly, his mind unable to force him to speak any louder than an almost-whisper. "Ennis," he held out his hand in front of him as though Jack had ask for his name. "Ennis del Mar."

"Jack." The man's hand grasped Ennis' with a surprising firmness. The feel of Jack's hand in Ennis' own made his head spin. This was proof! Final proof that Jack was real! All the doubts that had been forced into the back of his mind only to return with a greater presence were finally silenced. Diminished. Destroyed. Gone.

All that was left was the brilliant light of joy that shone through the warm brown of Ennis' irises. The light seemed to be in Jack's eyes too. A light of joy. A light of home. "Your folks just stop at Jack?" Ennis mimicked the other man's words from years previous. This, too, seemed to bring to Jack a long lost emotion: an almost-memory.

"Twist," he nodded, eyes still bright with what Ennis hoped was recognition. "Jack Twist."

It seemed that both men had forgotten that their hands were still together. And that Jack was wearing only a towel. The two men stepped a little closer together almost simultaneously, both pairs of eyes almost scanning what they had gone for so long without. Ennis' heart began to beat faster than it had in a long while, his skin feeling to warm and tight, the shirt on his back too restraining. He knew that his breathing had picked up too but didn't care: Jack was breathing just as heavy.

Something within Ennis made him stop short of pressing his lips to Jack's and allowing his hands to become lost in his tangled and still wet hair. It was the instinctual curiosity and once it took hold of Ennis, it refused to be suppressed.

Ennis forced his hand to release Jack's and took a step back to allow cool air to rush into the space between the two. He locked his gaze with the other man's and tried to force his expression to be anything but pleading. Unsure whether it would work and how long for, Ennis plucked a question from the mess in his head and opened his mouth, allowing the words to flow freely.

Ennis cleared his throat so that he could speak clearly. "What were you doin' wanderin' out there?"

"I got lost." Jack answered with a clear note of honesty in his tone. "I was workin' for this couple who owned this plot of land. They let me stay with 'em while I was workin'." Jack nodded as he explained, almost as if to reassure himself that he was remembering correctly. "But they were old and were sellin' the land, see, so I had to find some place else to work..." He trailed off, head bowed slightly.

"So you started walkin', hopin' that you'd fall on some work?" Ennis' almost-joke was a poor attempt to lighten the mood. As poor as it was, Jack managed another small smile. Whether it was genuine or sympathetic, Ennis was unsure.

"I guess." He responded. "I heard there was some work goin' someplace around here."

Ennis knew that Jack wasn't talking about his place when he spoke of 'someplace'. Everyone who knew the existence of Ennis' home knew that he preferred to live and work alone. Not that his life was the topic of discussion, of course.

"Then I got lost in the trees and found this place." Jack continued, looking to the ground briefly before looking back up at Ennis with an expression he couldn't quite read.

"You usually just accept offers of baths from strangers?" Ennis asked with the light-hearted tone that he had used before. To this, Jack smiled and shook his head.

"I just thought I could trust you, is all." He frowned a little at that but spoke again. "I don't know what it is. It's like I know you already, or somethin'. Like I already know you." This time was Ennis' turn to frown. Jack continued, seeming not to notice Ennis' new expression. "I don't remember much at all about myself, see. All I could remember was my name."

Time seemed to slow as Ennis' mind raced faster than ever before. Now what should he do? Tell Jack that he knew him? Tell Jack about what they had? About his wife and son? About all the pain their feelings had brought to those they loved, especially each other? Or should he remain silent and somehow, by keeping what he knows to himself, he and Jack may have their happy life after all?

One way? Or the other? Left or right? Up or down? Ennis' mind spun as he tried to make some sense of his choices. He began to feel a little light headed as the room seemed to spin and the ground fall from beneath him.

No. The ground was where it always was and would remain for a long time. Ennis was the one falling. Ennis was falling with nothing to hold on to. That was until hands were at his shoulders, an arm working its way under Ennis' own to support him. It took Ennis a moment to register that it was Jack who was holding Ennis stable and moving both towards the bed.

"I'm fine." Ennis found stability and stood alone. Jack's hands remained ready to catch him if need be but Ennis was able to clear his mind long enough to speak to Jack. "I gotta go to the store. There's clean clothes in the drawers and in the closet there." Ennis made his way to the door, mind still racing slightly, leaving a stunned Jack to dress himself with whatever he could find.

Outside, Ennis started his truck's engine, focusing on the sound as he drove from the house, leaving a memoryless Jack. Ennis was unable to process just why he had run from Jack like that. Why he had left the man in his house, in his room, alone.

If Ennis had looked to the window of his room, he would have noticed that Jack was looking out at the truck. which now was on the road to the nearby town, with eyes full of confusion and hurt. But there was some emotion deeper than that. Seemingly less than and yet somehow more potent. It was trust. Trust that Ennis would return. Trust that Jack would be safe. Trust that, from now on, everything was going to be okay.


	4. Revelation

Ennis sat in the parking lot of the store that sat on the edge of the small town close to his home. The engine had been cut off and Ennis had meant to go into the store to buy something, anything. He had told Jack he had to go to the store but the truth was that he just needed to sort through the tangle his mind had become. If he was going to make sense of the seemingly impossible events, he had to get his mind into a state where sense would make sense.

They had been so close. An inch or two more and their lips would have met and Ennis’ mind would have been no more. Nothing would be able to bring him back from that moment. He would be lost so completely in Jack that he would never be able to surface. And yet just that morning Jack Twist had been dead. Nothing but a memory. How was it possible? There was one clear answer: It wasn’t. Ennis had gone insane and his mind had fabricated a living Jack to save him from loneliness.

As he sat in the silence of the truck, contemplating his very possible insanity, Ennis failed to notice that the parking lot was no longer void of life other than he. There was another man there. A large man. Old too. He looked old enough to be Ennis’ father. It was only when the round figure was stood at the window of the drivers side that Ennis noticed his presence. He blinked hard and shook his head a little in an attempt to clear it. The man knocked on the window with a firmness that was almost demanding. Ennis’ heart beat harder as he looked to his left, confusion twisting with fear.

The man stepped back a little to allow, or rather silently command, Ennis to open the door and step into the heat of the fading day. The sun was on it’s way to the western horizon but the light and heat it supplied to the earth remained intense. The glaring eyes of the man that were just visible beneath the white stetson he wore to match his attire remained on Ennis as he moved. He closed the door, head bowed a little, remaining silent. He waited for a moment for the other man to speak but it seemed that the moment stretched on. With no breeze to cool him, Ennis began to get uncomfortable. The older man’s eyes seemed to add to the heat of the impossible day.

“You Ennis Del Mar?” The man’s voice was deep and commanding, like he was used to being obeyed. Ennis, mind still a incomprehensible blur of confusion, did not refuse him a truthful answer.

“Yeah.” Came his quiet reply. He wondered in the moment of silence that followed just who would be looking for him. When he could think of no one who would actually seek him out, Ennis cleared his throat and spoke again, trying to keep a polite tone in his voice. “Yeah, I’m Ennis. Who’s askin’?”  
The large man just smile, almost wickedly. “The name’s Newsome.”

The name danced in the back of Ennis’ mind. Where had he heard that name before? He frowned as he tried his hardest to push past the tangle his mind had become to find the memory to which the name belonged. It wasn’t long until he was cast back to his time with Jack. Listening to him complain about…something…someone… Newsome?

Newsome…?

Newsome! Jack’s wife! Her maiden name was Newsome! This must be her father! Ennis was remembering now. He had listened to Jack rant and complain about this man. He hated Jack almost as much as Jack hated him. But why was he here? Why was he talking to Ennis?

“I wanna talk to you about Jack twist.” The man, Newsome, broke Ennis’ train of unanswered questions that he could only guess at. Ennis’ frown, which had remained on his brow, deepened. Did he know Jack was still alive? Jack’s wife didn’t. Or if she did, she’d been damn good at acting grief stricken. Maybe they were all in on it, Ennis wondered. Maybe they were just out to trick Ennis and Jack’s parents. A small part of Ennis, the part that had been clinging to logical thinking no matter how impossible the day had gotten, spoke to him. It told him he was just being paranoid. But then why was Jack alive when all thought him dead?

“What about him?” Ennis tried to keep his voice calm but the heat was making him sweat and no matter how hard he tried, he could not relax his brow. The man looked as fearful as he felt.

“You know that he’s alive?” Ennis’ silence that he could not, dare not, break was confirmation of the statement the old man had dressed as a question. Ennis watched him as he shifted his weight with a nod. “But my girl don’t.” He allowed the silence to torture Ennis’ desire to know the truth a little longer before he explained further. “You see, there was no way in hell I’d let my grandson be raised by a queer like Jack Twist.” He paused again, this time to spit at the dusty earth with a disgusted look on his face. Ennis felt as though a white hot poker had been jabbed into his gut. But he remained silent, gritting his teeth to avoid reacting to the physical pain that the emotional agony had caused. The only sign that the words had registered was a pained anger that shone in his eyes.

The new fire that burnt within Ennis gave him something resembling courage. It wasn’t enough to speak to the older man but it was enough for Ennis to raise his head and keep eye contact, fear dissolving almost completely.

“Me and my boys took Twist out to teach him a lesson. I couldn’t kill him, no. I had to make an example of him. So they beat the bastard. They beat him good. And just before they hit him over the head, I told him, I said, ‘you better stay the hell away from my girl and her boy’.”

Ennis pictured a bleeding Jack in his mind. A river of deep red flowing from the back of his skull, the only place that any lasting damage had been caused. Tears began to pool in Ennis’ eyes as he saw Jack, alone and defenseless. Bloodied and beaten. On the edge of the peace of death but forced to endure the harsh pain of life. Ennis blinked back the tears, the locked eye contact with Newsome breaking momentarily. He swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened to erupt from his throat as a sob at any moment.

Newsome continued. “But then we had to cover our tracks. So we got some bum off the streets, looked real like him too. We dressed him in Twist’s clothes and beat him too. Killed him. My boys made sure his face was all beaten so no one would know it wasn’t him.” There was a sick glint in the old man’s eye. He was enjoying having this power, being able to control everyone around him like puppets.

Ennis was shaking slightly. His whole frame unstable. It took almost all of his inner strength and concentration to not swing for the large and older man. He formed a fist with his right hand and instinctively tensed as though in preparation for a fight. A laugh slid from the large man as he noticed Ennis change. He moved closer to Ennis, now only a few inches away, the old man grinned widely. He had gotten under Ennis’ skin. He knew it. Ennis knew so too and it seemed that Ennis’ knowing that the man could do this pleased Newsome greatly.

“You got children don’t you Ennis?” Again, Ennis’ silence was taken as confirmation of what Newsome had said. “You see, I don’t want my girl to be hurt. Just like I know you don’t want your girls to be hurt.” His voice had turned cold, his tone lowering a little. Ennis’ brow became something of worry, fear alone in his eyes. Fear not for himself, but for the girls he loved so much. “And if Twist came back, my girl would be so hurt.”

The silence that fell between the two turned from uncomfortable to deafening as Ennis’ eyes remained locked with the larger man’s as though he would tare Ennis’ throat out the moment he broke the link.

“So you’re gonna keep Twist hidden where he can’t hurt no one.” Newsome spoke surely, not adding anything to his words to make their impact greater. There was no need. Ennis was clinging to every syllable that passed from the old man’s lips. “And if anyone finds out that he’s still alive, especially my girl…” The silence fell again but only momentarily. “I’ll make sure that you don’t have no one.”

The dark glint in the old man’s eye became impossibly darker as he allowed Ennis to replay his words in his mind, the threat striking Ennis to the very core of his being. They stood like that for a moment, Newsome’s dominance eclipsing Ennis’ swelling anger and fear. The silence stretched even longer and Ennis began to ache from suppressing the urge to strike out at the rotund man.

Newsome held the rim of his stetson with his thumb and forefinger. His lips twisted into a smile that could almost be mistaken for pleasant. “Good day, Ennis Del Mar.”

Ennis was left alone as Newsome turned away to go back to where ever he appeared from. Through the sound of his own pulse drumming in his ear, Ennis heard the roar of an engine coming to life and the growling as it faded it into the distance. Ennis couldn’t feel anything over the tightening of his chest, seemingly pulling his entire body into one fixed point. His eyes had remained where they were, the only muscle moving was Ennis heart that beat frantically against his chest. 

Everything was numb and Ennis found himself unable to think anything. His mind was unable to even register the shock mixing with fear and confusion. It seemed as though the man would remain still, frozen in the near torturous heat, forever. But the world came crashing back down with the painful realization of just how helpless Ennis actually was. His blurred vision became a little focused where the tears were not obscuring his sight and his legs weakened. Vaguely aware of a pair of eyes on him from within the store, Ennis rushed to open the door to his vehicle. The minute strength that had been holding him up disappeared completely as he collapsed into the seat. Tears began streaming down his face as he slammed the door shut, finally allowing the chocked sob into the air.

Ennis slammed his forehead against the steering wheel in an attempt to distract from what he was feeling within. He hit the cold metal with the hand that had remained clenched into a fist over and over, unable to stop himself. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, breath coming far too quickly for him to even begin to calm himself.

Five minuets passed before Ennis brought his head slowly up, his back and neck aching slightly at having been in such a position for so long. He could feel the throbbing in his eyes and the still large lump that refused to allow him to breath properly. The tangle that had been Ennis’ mind only a few moments ago now was beyond any hope of being restored to it’s former functioning. Ennis took a deep, cleansing breath as he considered what he should do next.

The answer was simple: Go home to Jack where they would live together and grow old happily. It would be so easy. Everyone thought Jack was dead which meant that their life would not be disturbed by anyone seeking either of them. A smile flickered on Ennis’ lips at the image that soothed his mind: Him in Jack’s arms on his sofa, the open fire warming the both of them to the core. Ennis held onto the feeling of warmth and the sight of Jack’s eyes lighting with pure love. Their blue sparkling as he blinks slowly, contently.

Ennis, now calmer, allowed his eyes to slowly open to see that the sun was close to dipping behind the store and into the horizon. Ennis nodded to himself as the past collided with the present in one grand realization: Jack and Ennis had been so focused on what the future held for the both of them that they barely realized just how important the moment was. They had failed to savour the moments they had together. But not anymore. Jack couldn’t remember the past and Ennis refused to consider the future. So, for now at least, they would spend the moment together.

And Ennis would make the moment last. He would make that moment of joy, of pure happiness, last forever. And no one would destroy what he and Jack would share. And perhaps when Ennis had more control over his own thoughts, he would discover a way to overcome the chaotic events and find happiness not only for himself, but for Jack too.


	5. The Kiss

The air seemed to rush out of the vehicle when Ennis opened the door to get out. He rushed along with it, landing with both feet on the dusty earth and slamming the door closed in more of a burst of nervousness than anything else. He had gone so long without Jack. Without being able to see him, touch him, feel him. His memories had started to fade and what once was a place to which he could escape and be held by the only man he ever loved had become nothing but a ghostly shadow of what once was.

But things had changed. Jack wasn’t really dead. He was here, with Ennis. He was back where he belonged. He was home.

Ennis couldn’t stop the smile that had formed on his face, even despite the fact that his life and the lives of those he loved had been threatened by a man whom Ennis knew wasn’t bluffing. He had to nearly force his legs from moving him along in a rush to the door of his house. Ennis’ chest felt as though it had been pumped full of air beyond the point that any man should be able to withstand. He felt almost as though he would float off to the sky and beyond with no hope of being grounded. But he knew that his anchor, the one thing to keep him sane in all this madness, was waiting for him. He could almost feel Jack’s presence behind the door which he pushed through without even the briefest moment’s pause.

Once through the door, Ennis’ smile turned from the stretch of lips that filled him with such light to a slight twitch of the lips as he caught sight of Jack Twist in his kitchen, jacket hung over the back of a chair, wearing one of Ennis’ old and faded shirts with the sleeves rolled up. That wasn’t what had stunned him into temporary immobility, though. What had the man stopped in his tracks was the somewhat confused look on Jack’s face. His eyes flickered down and then back up to meet Ennis’ eyes with questioning before he spoke with a soft yet confused tone: “I thought you went to the store?”

Ennis’ reply was lost somewhere on its way from his mind to his mouth as his eyes lingered, connected with those shining blue pools of the man opposite him. A moment lingered in which neither man spoke. Only when Ennis’ mind began to throw him to the memory of those lips against his own, those hands on his skin, those arms so firm and yet so gentle in embracing him did he shake himself beck into reality. His eyes dropped to the floor, flickering to his hands for a moment as thought to check that they were, indeed, vacant of groceries.

“I-I did.” Ennis stuttered, moving to close the door and occupy his hands. “I- They were closed.” Within his own mind, Ennis congratulated himself on having the ability to think on his feet. The inner gesture went unnoticed by the outside world, namely Jack, who smiled as he rested against the counter.

“S’a shame.” Jack’s shoulders raised a little. He pushed his hands into his pockets where they remained as his eyes followed Ennis with something that the subject of the man’s attention hoped would turn out to be recognition. A low rumble made Ennis pause from removing his own jacket for a moment. His lips twitched into another smile as he watched Jack’s skin turn a shade of pink that Ennis couldn’t ever recall seeing. “Sorry,” Jack said in a quieter tone, bordering embarrassed. 

Ennis’ lips pulled back even further, his eyes lighting momentarily before the notion that Jack probably hadn’t eaten in hours dimmed the radiant glow that resulted in being in the presence of Jack Twist. He moved with haste to open the white doors of the bare cupboards. After searching behind the third set of painted doors, Ennis came across several tins of soup that he had never touched. He grabbed the largest tin there and asked Jack as he read the label; “We got tomato soup?”

Jack started forward as though he was going to say something but returned to his position of leaning on the counter before any words passed his lips. His hands slid back into his pockets as a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Tomato’s good.”

Ennis began to prepare the soup on the stove to heat, vaguely aware of Jack watching him through thick lashes that cast shadows upon his cheeks in the fading daylight. Ennis absent-mindedly flipped a switch that cast a bright light throughout the room, expelling all shadows that the setting sun’s final light had caused. The shadows that remained were fixed in their places with the men to whom they belonged. The flames of the stove danced and licked the underside of the saucepan, their heat bringing warmth to the cold soup which had been long forgotten at the back of Ennis’ shelf in its’ protective tin shell.

Ennis began to turn a little towards Jack, the silence filling the room with something that made Ennis somewhat uncomfortable. He glanced towards Jack and looked back to the saucepan again, the scent of the rapidly warming soup filling his nostrils and remind him of just how hungry he was.

“So,” Ennis turned to face Jack who looked to him with the expectation of following words. “You said you were livin’ with some old folks?”

There was the briefest moment of a pause in which Jack’s lips twitched up in a smile at the interest that Ennis was showing in his past. Or, at least, that’s what Ennis considered it to be. He was unable to consider any other reason to that delightful movement of Jack’s lips that seemed to tug at something in his chest. “Yeah. I was lost and they took me in, like you. They let me stay there so long as I worked. And I did, for a while. Then they said they were sellin’ the place. So I had to find someplace new. Someplace of my own. But then I got lost again and here I am.”

“And you don’t remember anything? Family? Friends?” A look of worry appeared on Ennis’ face as he spoke. Worry that Jack truly knew nothing of who he was. Or worse, that he remembered everything, including that pain that had driven them apart. Something in Ennis’ self shied away from that thought as though it were white hot. He couldn’t bear to think of Jack living through the turmoil that Ennis had caused. He just couldn’t.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Ennis focused hard on Jack’s words. “Not a thing. When I came here, it was like it was familiar or somethin’. Like I already know this place. Like I already know you...”

The silence fell once more in which Ennis could have said or done any of the plethora of things that were running through his mind. But he remained silent. He didn’t reveal that they had a past. That they were in love. That they could have been together and happy. He let the silence linger on, eyes stinging slightly, breaths coming just shy of noticeably faster. Ennis turned back to the stove where the scent of warm soup gave him a sensation other than longing to focus on. It was becoming harder and harder to stop himself from moving closer and taking Jack’s face in both his hands. He had to refrain though, he had to.

Ennis was so occupied with trying to not focus of Jack that he didn’t hear the other man’s movement. Nor did he feel the presence so close to him. He moved his hands to lift the saucepan by the handle when he heard the breaths behind him, almost on his neck. He forced himself not to freeze and even managed a nod in response to Jack when he asked “can I help any?”

Clearing his throat a little, Ennis managed to speak, though quietly. “Here.” He moved to the side and gestured to Jack to take the handle of the pan. Only when he felt the other man’s fingers wrap around the protective plastic and the muscles of his hand go firm with tension did he move to get the bread. Jack didn’t need to be told what to do; he was already filling the two bowls with equal amount of the thick soup. He placed both of the bowls on the table, the echo of a smile almost visible on his lips. Ennis placed the almost full bag of sliced bread onto the table between the two bowls. He sat and noted as he did so that Jack had been waiting for Ennis to be seated before he took his place opposite. A twitch of Ennis lips could’ve almost been a smile had it lasted longer.

There was an awkward pause in which Ennis watched Jack as he looked at him. It lasted for a few seconds before Ennis realised what was off, aside from the whole situation in which he found himself; there were no spoons. He was about to apologize and, with an embarrassed complexion that glowed crimson, retrieve two spoons from the almost empty cutlery drawer when Jack reached into the bread bag and pulled a slice out with steady hands, almost paced. After tearing the bread into two almost equal sizes, he dipped one half into the soup. 

His eyes locked with Ennis' as he bit into the soaked bread, a smile forming as he began to chew. Ennis smiled with a sigh of relief as he followed suit and took a slice for himself. The taste was incredible and along with the heat, it seemed to dim the world a little. His eyes closed a fraction as he began to unintentionally focus solely on the sensation. The sound of Jack chuckling at him drew him back into the world. He smiled at the man opposite him, every muscle relaxing all at once. He was at ease and what secured the feeling was the knowledge that Jack was too.

Time passed as the two ate, Jack asking Ennis about the animals and the fields and how he manages all on his own. The sight of Jack’s eyes lighting up with a smile when Ennis told him that he could do with some help made Ennis almost light-headed. The slurping of the soup was the only thing to break the happy chatter; the spoons had eventually been brought to the table by a chuckling Ennis when Jack told him that they were running low on bread. Ennis couldn’t recall how long it had been since it had been like this. The two of them together and laughing and talking about nothing of particular importance. The memory of Jack’s arms around him made a lump in his throat form. A spoon full of soup quickly washed it to the back of his mind where it was to lay dormant.

At some point when Jack talking about how he woke early in the morning without the need for an alarm Ennis interjected with a quiet and almost shy “you could work here for a while, if you’d like?”

Jack stopped.

There was no way that Ennis could have predicted what the reply would be but in that eternal moment, it was certain that he had time enough to guess. There was a stillness that befell the kitchen then. Nothing moved, neither of the men spoke. Ennis' eyes were cast down as a wounded animal's in fear of another blow. When he chanced a look up through his lashes and to the indecisive blue, his heart skipped what seemed to be several beats. 

The edge of Jack's lips pulled up then into a wide smile that was only outshone by the light in his eyes. Ennis raised his head a little to afford him a better view and his brow raised further still, an expression of polite questioning. “Sure.” Came Jack's response. “Thank you.”

The two of them talked of arrangements then; where Jack would sleep, what time they would wake, what work had to be done. By the time they had reached the bottoms of their bowls, it had been decided that Jack would sleep in the spare room. Though it's tiny bed would more likely than not be near torture to sleep on, it was a far better alternative to the couch. Jack would also keep his eye on the house as Ennis went to the store for more food.

Questions were not asked as to why Ennis trusted this stranger so easily as to leave him in his house alone. And nor was an enquiry made as to why Jack trusted this man so much. The man who, though incredibly familiar, had only known him a few hours.

With a smile and a full stomach, more from the jubilation of having Jack return than the soup, Ennis reached forward to take Jack's bowl. Jack smiled his thanks as Ennis moved to the sink to wash them and the saucepan clean. The words continued to flow steadily with the odd interruption of a hum of agreement or a chuckle that sounded from both men.

“So, you like soup?” It was a stupid question but Ennis couldn't help but ask it. There was a shift of movement that Ennis didn't bother to turn and witness for himself. The reply to his question was louder yet spoken with less volume than the rest of the conversation.

“Yeah,” Jack was stood only a foot or so from Ennis. “It's okay I guess.”

Ennis blood flooded his veins as he spoke. “I never really liked it that much.” Already he was breathless. His words almost a whisper. He neglected to hear the man's second movement as he finished cleaning the saucepan to a near immaculate standard. 

He placed it tentatively on the draining board just as a gentle hand reached forward to rest on his slightly outstretched arm. The hand applied the slightest of pressure in the form of a slight squeeze. Ennis could practically hear Jack's nervous smile. More so that the thudding of his own heart. The man closed his own eyes as he followed the minute force against his arm. He turned, Jack within the slightest of distances now. As Jack licked his lips, Ennis found that he was delivering moisture to his own. Ennis gulped audibly. Jack just huffed a chuckle, his lips dangerously close. The breath that blew against Ennis' skin smelt of a time gone by. Of a man lost and yet found. Of something so precious and once more his.

If only he had the strength to take it.

Ennis' eyelids moved slowly as they closed and reopened to confirm what his entire body was screaming at him.

“Jack...” Ennis breathed.

There was no reply. No verbal response to Ennis' utterance. Only the pressing of lips against lips. The movement of hands desperate to press against skin. The heat of another body against his own. The weight of the man pressing him into the counter. The friction as hands worked clothes out of the way.

The rough almost hunger of the men's hands ended where their lips met. At their lips was where the loving was. The caring. The gentle push, willing them open. The careful press of tongue against tongue. The turning of heads for better angles. The deep intakes of breath only to be exhaled a moment later.

The connection of two lovers, together once more.

Ennis wanted nothing but to remain in this embrace until the end of time. The warmth of his love against him. No more lonely days. No more cold nights.

But the icy bite at his core was hard to disregard. There was something wrong here. Something about the way Ennis' lips moved was off. It was as though he were kissing a stranger. He knew in his mind that this man was the only man he had ever loved. But in his heart, he could only see Jack as a hollow shell. Nothing more than a likeness. This echo of a former man wasn't Jack. Not the Jack he knew at any rate. And though he pressed firmer, hands searching harder, the ice grew colder.

Ennis bowed his head slightly to allow cold air to rush between their lips. Jack, lustful eyes closed, tried for another kiss. A slight peck which Ennis returned. Another. A slightly longer kiss and a hand moving downwards. Ennis forced his eyes closed as he instinctively tried for breath. The rush of cold air joined the frozen core in what was practically a recoil.

Jack eyes blinked open, his lips pinker and eyes brighter with lust. His shirt was rumpled where Ennis had clung and forced the fabric to move. He could only imagine that he looked a similar way.

Ennis refused to drop his gaze, eyes locked with Jack's. Both their pupils trying in vain to swallow the image of the other. To store it somewhere safe; somewhere warm.

The silence stretched.

The heavy breathing slowed only fractionally.

Jack was the first to speak. He was quiet, breath rushing out with the words. “I'm sorry.”

Ennis shook his head a little as though to disregard the apology. He couldn't speak though. The lump in his throat wasn't the formation of words. Ennis had felt it far too many times to mistake it for such a grace. He moved forward, placed a kiss against Jack's cheek and left the room with a heavy heart, his eyes began to sting slightly.

He made quick movements to the stairs. The click of the lock only a slight sound in the night. Ennis could feel the lump moving higher now, closer to his mouth. By the time he had reached the bedroom, he had to bite hard to keep the partially formed sob contained in silence. As he closed the door behind him and relaxed his jaw. Hoping the sob would be quiet on it's forced exit.

No sound came.

The cold seemed a great expanse before Ennis; an eternal void of nothing in which he was doomed to wander. Through the frozen stillness came the burning of a single tear rolling down from the corner of his left eye. The salty fire burned against his skin as the man made no attempt to wipe it away. Into the dark void he stared.

He was gone. Blind to all sights. Mute to all words. Deaf to all sounds. 

All but one. The light knock against the old wood didn't make him jump out of his skin. Nor did it wake him from his world of dark ice and salty fire. It was the sound of a voice that sparked the reaction.

“G'night.” It was gentle, caring. Just as the kiss had been. The sound of affection. The sound of love. The sound of a man who had shared a world with Ennis. A man Ennis couldn't live without. And with the cascading of more burning tears Ennis realised, a man he had to bring back to him.

A man he had to bring home.


	6. The Calm

The air the greeted Ennis when he finally awoke was cold against his skin. The only warmth came from the light of the rising sun which reached through the window to rest against the wall of the small bedroom. The man watched as dust swirled in unseen patterns in the light.

He remained with his head against the cool of the pillow, his body wrapped in blankets, until the events of hours previous flooded through his consciousness. His lips tingled at the memory and Ennis reached a careful hand to press his fingers to where Jack Twist's lips had been. The corners of Ennis' own lips pulled up in what would have been a smile. The sense of elation was short lived as he recalled the revelation he had had. Jack had to know who he was. He had to know what he meant to Ennis. What he meant to the people who loved him. He had to know he was loved. That he had a life. And though it was far from perfect, he had a family.

Ennis threw off the covers as his heart moved from dull and heavy thuds to fast, light beats in no time at all. A sudden wave of nausea overcame him as he reached to pull himself from the mattress. Popping sounds were made as his joins protested against such movement; a lifetime of manual labour had left Ennis less able than he used to be.

He dressed slowly, his mind full of scenarios in which he told Jack the truth about everything. He noticed as he buttoned up his faded plaid shirt that not one of them at all seemed to work. He couldn't find the right phrasing to break the news to Jack in such a way that he wouldn't hate Ennis. If only he could start over, be honest with him from the beginning. Of course had he the ability to undo time's catastrophic events, he would create a world in which he and Jack lived happily. Together.

But this was no world of fairy tales and happy endings. This was a world of hurt and loss and pain. Telling Jack of his life before he lost all he was wouldn't come easy. Nor would it end with the two of them together, safe and warm. Ennis had seen too much of the world's darkness to hold to such glimmering threads of light.

Jack hadn't though. Not _this_ Jack. He had seen kindness in people unlike Ennis could ever imagine. He could see it in Jack's eyes; the trust of those who offered him the warmth of home. He saw the gleaming light of happiness. Ennis' chest ached at the thought of him being the one to darken such light.

He paused a moment to look out to the scenery outside. The fields of crop that had been nursed back to life by Ennis himself. The barn that he had repaired that contained the livestock he cared for. This place was his home. He had brought life here: made it into something more than a house on an old farm. But it wasn't always the property of Ennis del Mar.

He took a deep breath to cleanse his mind. How would he be able to explain this to Jack? To let him know of what they shared, what they had to call their own. To remain quiet would be to live in the dark, allowing it's tendrils to tear away at the very fabric of his soul. But to tell the truth would be to destroy everything he held to with the final thread of his life.

But it wasn't his choice to make: that much was clear. It could only be Jack's. Jack had to be the one to accept the way things used to be or this new world he had stumbled upon when lost in the woods. There was only one way Ennis could see that would allow him to make Jack choose for himself. He had to help Jack remember. If he forced the past upon him, Jack may be pushed away forever. But if he neglected to restore Jack to his former self, there would always be that part of Ennis missing. He would never be able to love another as he had loved Jack. Certainly not this imposter in a Jack shaped armour. To love him would be to love a hollow shell; an echo of what once was.

Realising that he hadn't blinked in the past few moments, Ennis rubbed his closed eyes. A sigh echoed from one wall to the next as he made his way to the door. Once out of the room, he leant against the solid wood of the door which he had closed behind him. He took one more deep breath before pushing himself off and heading downstairs.

There was silence in the house, aside from the odd creek of age and the sound of Ennis' shuffled steps. There was no sound of Jack moving in the kitchen. No sound of water rushing through the pipes to the bathroom where he would be cleaning up. The lack of life other than his own made the hairs on the back of Ennis' neck stand up. His mind flashed thoughts of paranoia and shame. What if he was going mad in his old age? What if he was only imagining Jack? He had had these same thoughts the night previous but they had been silenced.

Silenced with a kiss.

The feel of skin against his own. The first real human contact he had had in years. And the first sign of affection that he had been shown in longer than he could remember. His lips pulled into the weakest of smiles at the memory of Jack pressed against his body. He turned to the door which lead to the living room in which there sat a large couch. He entered the room, breathing as lightly as he stepped to find that upon the couch, a heap of blankets were in place of what had been neatly placed there the night before. From within the heap came the sound of deep, slow, peaceful breaths.

Ennis walked slowly, with light footsteps so as not to wake the source of the sound. His eyes ran first over the bunched up fabric until they came to rest upon a mess of dark greying hair. Parts of the hair that were not standing in the air were stuck the sleeping man's forehead. The sleeper in question was laid on the old couch, his head resting oddly upon the arm of at one end, propped up with the minimal comfort provided by the two throw cushions that had been set on the couch decoratively. His lips were parted a little and the skin on one half of his face bunched up along with his hair as he slept. The sight of the man's closed eyes, messed hair and almost innocent stillness was endearing. After only a few moments in the room, Ennis found that his breathing seemingly matched that of the sleeping Jack Twist.

Ennis' lips twitched before forming a timid smile that lasted on his lips as he left the room just as silently as he had entered to complete the morning's tasks.

* * * 

The sound of a moan was the first thing that he heard. An aching moan of one rising from slumber. It was only when Jack attempted to scratch the itching skin of his neck and got his hands tangled in a mess of soft fabric did he realise that it was he that had been asleep. His brow pulled tight before his face contorted with a reddened complexion. His arms stretched above his head and his legs out over the arm of the couch upon which he found himself nestled in blankets. He expired the air he had kept in his lungs before stretching. Having pulled the blankets from his body, he pushed them to the side and sat up on the couch and looked to the window. Or more specifically, the strip of view of the outside world the small gap in the curtains offered. He noted that the sky seemed an odd shade of blue that lit the earth below it. Jack rubbed at his closed eyes furiously with the heel of his hand and thought.

He thought of the past few years he had lived, surrounded by a fog of confusion, never to be lifted. The odd feeling in his gut that never left. The need for answers to questions he could never form.

The only memory he had awoken with was his name. And so armed with no knowledge of who he was, he set out into the world. No one he spoke to, the doctors and people in the diners and bars, didn't know him by name or by face. He tried the phone book but there were hundreds of Twists and few Jacks that he could find. None of the small select group he had been able to speak with knew him either. There was one woman who knew of a man named Jack Twist who had persuaded her husband into buying some farming equipment but she had told him that he had died over a year ago.

Almost a year of travelling and questioning, Jack finally decided to find a life for himself and hope that he would remember some small detail of his life. Something more than the lost, loneliness he had felt every day since coming to.

That's when he found work on ranches and farms. He helped out the best he could for what little the owners of the place at the time could spare in such troubling days. He spent years working and moving from place to place earning little and having nothing to call his own but his name. And he often questioned the trueness of that.

One night, whilst sat in the corner booth of a small diner, counting what little change he had left after his last work almost a week previous, Jack was approached by a man in his early twenties. The man, by the name Joseph Trent, told Jack that he had heard that he was looking for work. He was moving to the city and was looking for someone to work for his parents, help them tend to the small piece of land they owned. The Trent boy stayed in his parents house for a few weeks while Jack worked there before leaving him with them. The plan was for Jack to stay and work for the old couple for a few weeks tops but after hearing his story, or rather lack thereof, the old couple took him in and made him feel at home. He had a roof over his head and food on the table so long as he was able to help with the work.

Months passed before Jack began questioning his lack of memory again. He went back to the hospital where he had woken from his comatose state to look for answers. They told him what they had before he left; that they checked his name against all missing persons reports and nothing came back. Jack continued to work for the Trents but did it with a heavy heart and a sense of loss. But not for long.

The Trents were growing old and unable to work as hard as they used to. They thought it was unfair to load Jack with the work that he had been doing in recent weeks and couldn't afford to keep their land. The feeling of an almost home was lost the moment he left the Trent's for the place they told him about. He walked for miles with his inability to drive legally and lost his way after he lost count of the hours of walking he had done. He hadn't come across anyone who knew of a ranch or farm close by. He was beginning to lose hope when he stumbled upon a house that sat beside a barn on the outskirts of town.

Jack's head rose slowly as his eyes looked again to the curtains that separated the inside from the out. He flexed his fingers as he stood slowly, his joints protesting to the slight ache. His laugh was hollow as he thought not only of his age but also of the missing years. He took slow steps to the window where he gripped the rough fabric and pulled, grimacing at the harsh daylight that he thought looked so soft through the gap. He scratched the back of his neck as he opened the second curtain and turned on the small, almost bare living room, flooded with morning light.

Jack yawned as he unsuccessfully attempted to push down his bed hair into something more presentable before finding the man who allowed him to eat, bathe and sleep in his house. As his fingers ran through his hair, his finger pressed against the long scar on his scalp hidden beneath the greying mess. Another hollow chuckle sounded at the thought of the colour of his hair.

The sensation the cold handle caused when pressed against the warmth of his palm jolted him from his still sleepy state. He opened the door and walked to the kitchen in search of Ennis.

No luck.

He listened intently for the sound of life beyond his own and heard nothing. Nothing until the sound of muttering and cursing coming from beyond the door that faced the woods from which Jack had stumbled. Mere seconds passed in which Jack was able only to turn to face the sound when the door swung open and a disgruntled Ennis walked across the threshold, grabbing his arm and wincing.

“Morning.” Jack smiled, his eyes searching for Ennis' own.

After a moment's pause in which Ennis' eyes filled with first disbelief and then relief so fast that Jack hardly caught it. But the smile was returned as Ennis said: “Afternoon.”

“That late huh?” Jack could hardly believe he had slept in so late. He stood a little faster than normal, a sense of urgency filling him when Ennis winced and look down at his arm. “You okay there?”

Ennis laughed a little before nodding. “I'm fine. Just hurt my arm a little out there.” He walked to Jack who had moved towards Ennis in what he thought of as attempting to offer his help to the other man. Ennis brushed past Jack, the top button of his plaid shirt was undone and part of the shit was loose from where he had tucked it into his jeans. Jack was less dressed in a shirt of Ennis' and a pair of pyjama trousers that he had guessed Ennis hadn't worn in a while. His heart rate changed faster than he had ever remembered it doing before as his blood coursed through his body, flooding his cheeks with warmth. The slight colour change caught Ennis' eye and he too blushed which only caused Jack to blush harder.

“About last night-” Jack started.

“We don't have to talk about it.” Ennis interrupted. “If you don't want to.”

Jack thought on his words as Ennis took a pill from a box he hard retrieved from the draw close by the sink. He swallowed the pill and chased it with a handful of water he scooped into his mouth direct from the tap. Jack spoke as Ennis dried himself with a close by tea towel that sat folded on the counter. “I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking.”

“It's okay.” Ennis wasn't facing Jack but he could tell from the shaking of the man's words that he was flushed. “But there's something we have to talk about.”

“Oh?” Jack's heart raced again but this time with fear in place of a surge of pleasure. He thought of the possibility of Ennis kicking him to the streets for the kiss. He had welcomed him into his home and he had displayed his _unnatural_ feelings. He had lost his memory but he remembered that people like him weren't welcome anywhere in this world. Things were changing but people could still beat you to a pulp for being different.

“It's about you.” Ennis turned around slowly, his hands twisting the towel more than his brow was pulled tight. His head was low and his eyes fixed on the floor. When he spoke, his words fought their way through a compressed throat and into the air to be deciphered by Jack's straining ears. “I think you should sit down...”

The air changed and suddenly the room seemed eerily silent, almost as though the quiet before the storm. The disquieting feeling in Jack's stomach grew up and up until it forced his legs and arms forward, his body no longer his own. His hands grabbed Ennis' with gentile force to make him stop twisting the towel and clam down. One hand rested on the two that shook slightly beneath his touch as the other rose to touch his cheek softly.

“It's okay.” His word were barely a whisper. “Just tell me.”

Ennis looked up and met his eyes for only a second before looking away again. Jack knew the shining gleam all too well; the look of a man on the verge of tears. What ever Ennis was about to say, Jack knew it wouldn't be good. For either of them.

His hand rested on Ennis' neck as he gave Ennis' own a reassuring squeeze. “Ennis.” The man responded to his name with a look of shame swimming with the brimming tears that were almost on the edge of falling. Jack's chest ached at the sight as he spoke again. “Just tell me.”

“I know you.” His eyes changed. Like the shame had consumed him entirely. His words were broken as he continued. “I knew you before. I know who you are and I-”

All Jack could do was watch a tear fall down Ennis' cheek with a numb feeling to every part of him. The words seemed to register only on a subconscious level as his mind worked to process what he was hearing.

Ennis' whispered the final words, his whole body now shaking as he struggled to keep his eyes on Jack's face. “I lied to you. I- I'm sorry- so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has taken longer to write than I imagined, whoops. Hopefully the next few chapters won't take so long to get finished, even with college.
> 
> Comments and kudos' are appreciated and, as ever, thank you for reading.


	7. The Storm

The only sound that made it to Jack's ears over the furious pounding of his own heart against his chest was the air that rushed in and out of him as though he was being forced to keep breathing. He felt as though a fire had been lit within him. A flame that had been ignited by the spark of memory, the floods of which were as gasoline to the fires of rage. He could see only blurs of past in his mind's eye. A shape here, a muffled echo there. Nothing real. Nothing permanent. But as the moments passed in their hour-like feeling, the blurs became more sharpened.

Jack needed to leave, he had to get some air that didn't taste of bitter smoke and deceit. His hands had been clenched so tightly into fists that they protested to any movement he attempted to force them into doing. He flexed them, the movements slow and precise. Jack's eyes had been burning holes into the hardwood floor, his jaw locked with vice like strength. When he spoke, the utterance was quiet and forced. “I need some air...”

Without looking to Ennis and his now red eyes, Jack turned and all but threw himself out of the door before slamming it closed behind him. The room seemed so much colder with his absence. Or maybe the shivers that rippled up and down Ennis' quivering spine created the illusion of such a temperature. Either way, Ennis' jaw shook, his lips trembling as they tried frivolously to make words like 'sorry' and 'please' sound. No begging would save him now. No amount of soup and heated kisses would wash away the hurt he had caused. Ennis had knowingly brought a world of pain upon them both.

Perhaps he had thought Jack would be able to overlook the lies and secrets to what they shared for so long. Ennis couldn't live without Jack and maybe some part of him, hiding from rationality, hoped the same would be said for the other man. Living without Jack was the worst thing Ennis could imagine. The hollow emptiness he felt within him each time the sun rose, the light doing nothing to cast out the shadows. Now he had to face the same fate, only this time knowing that Jack was so close to being his once more.

His shaking hands moved from where they were slumped awkwardly by his sides to press into his tearful eyes. The raw feel of them made worse by the pressure that he added. He needed it though: he had to think clearly. His hands moved up to hold his head that threatened to drop with the rest of him at any given moment. He glared at nothing in particular for a moment, his eyes wide and his teeth pressed together. What little air he could draw into his lungs did nothing to clear his mind: the unseen pressure against his throat sought to that. There was little he could do to stop it. The tears were falling again, his chest becoming tighter with each breath. He couldn't help it. He had no choice. His lips parted without his consent as they drew in a gulp of air only to be spat back out again in a sob that echoed around the room. The lone sound was all it took to break the man's resolve. The spittle that had been cast from his mouth now clung to his lip. Some landed on the floor, unseen. Ennis' legs became weak, his strength had left him when the sob broke free from his chest. The man stumbled into the counter top, clutching to the stone-cold surface for any support it could offer.

Outside, Jack stood on the chipped wooden porch. His hands were wrapped around a broken rail that overlooked the woods from which he had stumbled, so lost and confused. He would have never guessed that he would find himself with such brutality. Neither would he have guessed that he would want so desperately to be lost again. This state of midway between knowing who you were and wanting to cling to the comfort of who you were was where Jack had found himself.

All he could see in his mind's eye was the image of Ennis' skin beneath his on touch. His hands gentle against the other man's cheeks as he uttered soothing words to him, drying his eyes, holding him as he let out the pain he had obviously clung to for so long.

But how could he forgive the man who had lied to him? Who had neglected to tell him who he really is. How could he ever feel anything other than discontent for such an individual? But he did. Or at least that's he thought. And one thing he knew above all: he needed answers. And Ennis was the only one who could give them to him.

Back in the house's kitchen, Ennis threw water that had collected in his cupped hands from the tap onto his face. He rubbed his neck with his cool hands, the sensation calming him significantly. The water seemed to cleanse him of whatever it was that stopped his mind from functioning beyond sobbing and shaking. A few drops that clung to his lips were drawn in as he stood straight, pulling air into his lungs. His eyes were closed tight as he dried himself, the air escaping in a shaken sigh. There was no avoiding it now. He had to take make Jack understand who he was and what his life was like.

Ennis grabbed his jacket, the keys to his truck in the pocket jingling noisily as he pushed his arms through the sleeves. He straightened the jacket before he made for the door. He found Jack stood a few feet from ahead of him, eyes fixed on something that Ennis couldn't see. His hands were no longer clasped into fists and his breathing didn't seem as erratic as Ennis had expected it to be. Ennis' heart thundered against his chest as though he had been running for hours. He managed to calm his breathing as he spoke though. A slight cough sounded to clear his throat but also to signal to the other man that he was there if he hadn't noticed already.

Ennis spoke without looking for signs that Jack acknowledged him. “J-Jack?” He took a step forward, speaking a little louder. “Jack, I gotta show you something.” Jack turned his head in Ennis' direction, his eyes searching the ground as desperately as the man himself searched for truth.

“You want to help me?” Jack's words were almost spat out. “You were the one who _lied_ to me.”

“I know, I should have told you, but I couldn't. You gotta understand!” Ennis was imploring Jack to understand. But how could he? He didn't know who he was, who Ennis was and the sacrifice the Jack had been willing to make so many years ago.

“Understand what?” Jack turned now, his words holding to them a fire that burned brighter than pleading glimmer in his eye. “There ain't nothin' you can do to make this alright.”

“At least let me try.” Ennis' hand reached into his pocket to pull out the key to his truck. “I promise you, I just want to show you the place I stayed before I came here.”

“Why in Hell should I trust you?” Jack's brow was brought in tightly, his voice loosing its stability for a moment.

“Look in my eyes,” he begged. “I'm not lyin' to you. I swear.”

Jack tilted his head up, eyes searching Ennis' for any sign of a lie. Every fibre of Jack's being was telling him to run as fast as he could from this crazed old fool, but something deeper sounded, it's low call resonating from the very core of the man. It was the same feeling that urged him forward as he stumbled through the wood and the same feeling that reassured him he was safe inside the stranger's house.

“Suppose you ain't lying. Suppose I trust you. Why do you need to show me where you stayed before?”

“Because I know it'll help you remember who you are.” Ennis' words were softer now but his eyes still burned with the a desperation that Jack barely noticed. The man thought on the past few hours and everything that had happened. He thought on all the lies that had been revealed. In his thoughts were the echoes of a feeling that had all but taken over him when he saw Ennis. The feeling he would do anything to feel once again without the sting of betrayal that now accompanied Ennis' presence. His shoulders slumped as he sighed in defeat to the curiosity that ran as rampant as a giddy child.

Jack nodded, his eyes not meeting Ennis', his feet making haste towards the truck. Ennis disappeared into the house only to return a moment later. Once he had locked the tattered wooden door, he made his way to the driver's side of the truck. Jack noted the way his eyes remained on the ground, his brow furrowed, as he made the short journey. It was almost as though Jack could feel the waves of guilt that threatened to drown Ennis at any moment.

The door was opened and shut, the engine started and the truck set upon it's path to an unknown location without a single word or look exchange. Though as Jack watched the landscape crawl by, he couldn't help but feel the unease of the man sat beside him. And though there were still remnants of rage rushing through Jack's veins, the sudden anxiety that had appeared almost swallowed him whole.

This was it. He would soon find out who he was. Who he is...

But is he the same person? Is the Jack that is riding shotgun to a stranger any more the man he was before than the one who sat beside him, behind the wheel. It seemed that only Ennis knew. And Jack didn't feel like much conversation was to be had. After all, how could he trust that what he said was truth.

Jack knew it was his own fault for accepting all that he had from a stranger in the middle of nowhere but something felt _right_ about saying yes. About taking the offer. About the kiss.

Curiosity would be the death of Jack, and he seemed not to mind as he turned to Ennis, air pulling into his lungs in preparation for one of many questions he wanted answered.

“What was I like...” The softness of his words shocked even him and Ennis had to almost strain to clearly hear what was being said. “Y'know, when you knew me before. Was I a good person.”

Ennis smiled to himself slightly, his chest tightening a little. He allowed a silent moment to pass before he glanced to his side. “Jack,” he looked back to the stretch of empty road before turning his eyes back, locking with Jack's. “You were the greatest man I ever met.”

Jack seemed content with the answer. A smile threatened to linger in his eyes but his lips barely twitched. Not because the answer was unsatisfactory or because he expected more, but because there was a pang of emotion with which he had become far too accustomed for his own liking: longing.

The truck slowed to a stop a short while later, a large house casting no shadows to offer refuge from the early sun. The colour of the paint looked as though it was once white but had faded with age. A tree grew at the side of the house and it looked as though the roots must be twisted in the very foundation itself. Not too far away was a small barn that looked older and more worn down than the house did and the lack of windows made the dark shadows within fill Jack with a fear of the unknown. The windows on the house were coated in a thin layer of dirt, but he could tell that light still shone within. Just like it always had...

Tears rolled down Jack's face before he was even able to register an emotion. His face hurt from how he had contorted it. Ennis sheepishly reached a hand over to Jack's to take hold with a light grip of reassurance. Against the judgement that would have been deemed better were he in his right mind, Jack held on for a moment before Ennis began speaking with a soft and informative voice.

“You used to live here. When you were a kid. Your parents lived here until they-” Ennis looked to Jack who only nodded as if to say he knew what was about to be said. There was no need in repeating harsh words, right?

“I want to go inside.” His voice almost broke on the final word. So odd it was to see a man with so strong an exterior have such a fragile soul. Ennis didn't think any man could withstand what Jack had and return unbroken. “Can we?”

Ennis ran his thumb over the wheel of the car, wishing he could hold onto Jack in comfort, as he nodded before affirming with a “yes” that was barely above a whisper.

The air seemed ice cold and the world itself a darker place despite the sun's light. Jack wandered ahead a few metres as Ennis followed, key to the house in hand. He watched as Jack almost staggered on the dirt, his tear filled eyes scanning every part of the surrounding area. Memories of a boy playing flitted through his mind. A man working and a mother bringing the two drinks. The man yelling at the boy. The boy working harder and with more determination to please his father. The mother loving her boys. A family.

But not just any family. It was Jack's family. _His_ mother and _his_ father. He had a family. He a place he belonged: A place he was loved. He smiled at how easy it was to accept the memories as his own, to know they belonged within him. They were his and his alone. This place was his and nothing could change that. All anger that he had felt before was gone now, replaced instead with joyful reminiscence.

Ennis opened the door as Jack wandered through his memories and a place he once called home. Jack didn't need to be called: he was right behind Ennis as the two stepped into a worn out kitchen, lit only by the sun through the murky window panes.

“I'll let you...” Jack was lost to him but Ennis wanted to give him the chance to be alone with his thoughts and recollect the shattered fragments of an identity he once owned. The fragments were the best Ennis could offer and he owed him so much more than that for his deception. The thought made the guilt twist his gut again. Ennis lowered his eyes as he told Jack “I'll be out here if you need me.”

Ennis sat upon a large upturned box that lay on the ground just beside the door through which he had left Jack with some privacy. His mind lost time as he thought through everything he knew about the man he had been longing for ever since the fist night that they had kissed. And every moment they had shared since. Jack was wrong: Ennis couldn't make it one a couple of high altitude fucks. He longed for Jack more than a drowning man for air. It was just that Ennis could see with more rationality than Jack and his dreams of a happily ever after that would never be. Even now, he could tell that if Jack had been in his situation, he would have lied for the sake of a happiness they could share: a life that would be theirs and theirs alone. He wouldn't have subjected Ennis to a pain like this. He would have ensured their happiness. But then again, he would have built a ranch from nothing and reared the greatest of livestock. In such a reality, Jack would have had anything he could dream. But that was a different reality, not the one in which they found themselves now, and Ennis knew what he did was right in the end. It had to be. Otherwise, what was all the pain worth?


	8. Collateral Damage

The day melted laboriously into late afternoon as the sun crawled along its eternal arc. The heat was broken apart by the occasional cooling breeze that blew across the dusty land but the final hours of the day were as hot as ever, even in the shadow of the old farm house that stood solitary in the dry southern land. Ennis del Mar sat alone, his legs beginning to ache and the knot that had formed in his back protested to every sigh that his subconscious drew from him. Time had passed but Ennis had been all but oblivious to its presence, his mind was his sanctuary and his prison as he waited for Jack Twist to return.

A thought had danced across his mind that perhaps leaving Jack alone to remember wasn't the greatest way to handle the situation, however, he was unable to think of a better idea alone. Still lost in some place between wanting to give Jack the privacy he deserved and wanting to be there for the man he had lost once before, Ennis began to rise from the upturned box upon which he sat. His groan sounded strange to his ears as it broke the birdsong that had been tunefully calling for a while now. It couldn't have been that long since he had let Jack into the house, Ennis thought, but it felt like a lifetime waiting for him to return. Now on his feet once again, Ennis walked with attentive steps toward the door. His hand rested on the wood, oddly cold to the touch. Taking a deep breath, Ennis carefully turned the handle and step across the threshold.

Inside was even cooler than the shade had been and for that, Ennis was thankful. What he didn't give thanks for, however, was what he found in shade of the kitchen.

At the table, Jack sat, an arm resting on the old wood and the other on his lap, his head was bowed. The remnants of where tears had fallen could be seen on his cheeks below red eyes. The part that struck Ennis like ice to the core was the stillness of it: it seemed the world itself had paused in mourning for all that Jack had lost. There was no sobbing on Jack's part, no heavy breathing and no angry shaking. He just sat there, as though defeated by the weight of it all. Ennis cleared his throat, the need for hydration of little import in comparison to the need to get to Jack.

"...Jack?" His voice was audible but rough. The struggle to speak was greater than ever before. "Ja-"

"I remember..." It was barely a murmur but it was enough to catch Ennis's attention.

"Huh?" He moved closer, his head bowing a little more despite the protest of his joints.

"I remember...everything." He looked up, eyes watering and lip quivering. "Ennis-"

"It's okay." Without thinking, Ennis stepped forward, his knees cracking and he squatted on the floor. He placed his hand on Jack's forearm, holding with a grip he hoped was reassuring. Words failed him, so he let the silence take hold as he looked into Jack's eyes and searched for the man he knew.

"What do you remember?" The question came moments later and was met with a furrowed brow.

Jack pulled back his arm a little, shifting slightly where he sat. "I remember-" He sighed, his hand moving to rub his closed eyes before he continued. "I remember my son. My wife. My family." His eyes had been darting around the room but they came to rest on Ennis's. "I remember you."

Ennis took a moment's pause before stepping back to pull up another chair. The scraping of the wood against the floor gave some sound to fill the void the absence of voices left. The man lowered himself slowly onto the seat, a sigh escaping him as he settled himself for the inevitable pain that was sure to follow.

"So what now?" Ennis tried his best to regulate his breathing but he could feel the erratic beating of his heart in the back of his throat.

Jack frowned as his eyes danced upon the table's surface. "I loved my wife, and my son. But you-" He looked up through lashes as he continued to speak. "What happened to my parents?"

Ennis sat back slightly, swallowing to clear his throat. "Your old man got sick not long after you-” There was a pause but Ennis was quick to continue. “He didn’t suffer for long… I looked after your ma’ for a while. I even moved in, sleeping in the spare room. But she got sick too. Real sick." He swallowed. "It wasn't painful for her towards the end..." Ennis let his voice trail into the stillness of silence that followed.

Jack's eyes seemed to look everywhere but Ennis's face which was turned away as though in shame. He didn't want this for Jack: those tears in his eyes and the pain in his heart. A lump formed in Ennis's throat at the thought of Jack's pain. The poor man had found all that he had lost just to have it all turn to ash before his eyes. He had nothing. He had no one. Except for Ennis.

“She left me this place. She said something about wanting to keep the house in the family.” The corner of Ennis’s mouth twitched in what could have been a smile as he thought about the conversation he had had with Jack’s mother. He had tried to convince her otherwise but she had been adamant about it. The house had been in the Twist family for generations and despite Jack’s father’s reservations about their relationship, Jack’s mother thought of Ennis as family. Ennis had known that she wasn’t telling him the truth. At least not the whole truth. Ennis knew that he was the only person she could leave the house to who appreciated the family who had lived there before. “I couldn’t live here,” he glanced around the room, thankful for somewhere to look that wasn’t Jack’s desperate eyes. “It was too painful for me…”

“That place,” Jack’s voice was without expression but his face displayed all the emotion that he felt within. “You lived there instead?”

“Yeah.” Ennis flashed a slight smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere little by little, before continuing. “This guy who owns it got a job up north, asked if I’d look after the place for a while until he comes back. All the money I get goes on buying food, paying the bills and keeping this place.”

That’s when the silence fell once more. There was a more comfortable air to it this time though.

“Where were they-“

“Out back.” Ennis had been waiting for Jack to ask about his parents’ final resting place but he didn’t want to force more on jack than he was ready for. “You wanna go see them?”

Jack nodded, eyes low, and Ennis stood. Only Jack’s head moved as if to follow as Ennis walked by him to the cupboard. Taking one of the few glasses that had been left here, Ennis filled it with water. He took a gulp before returning to Jack. He placed a hand on his shoulder and handed him the glass.

“Drink this.” It was more a request than a demand but Jack obeyed wordlessly regardless. Ennis squeezed Jack’s shoulder in comfort before leaving the house. Jack followed only moments later.

The world was just a blur at the back of Ennis’s mind as he walked across the dusty land and onto the pale grass that blanketed the earth beneath which the twist family were laid to rest. Ennis knew where to walk, he had visited the stones that marked the graves of the two who had shown a tired man a great kindness many times before. It was just muscle memory by now.

He slowed his pace as he drew closer the cold grey stones, engraved simply with names and dates. When his pace has slowed to a stop, Ennis turned to see Jack, eyes on the ground as he wrung his hands. His steps were unsure and slightly off balance. He stopped a pace away from where Ennis stood, his body physically shaking as he forced his eyes to move from the patch of earth where grass had barely grown. Ennis kept his head bowed but his eyes on Jack, watching every move, his heart thundering in his chest as he resisted the urge to pull the man close. He needed this, he needed the closure. He needed to remember.

There was a silence that seemed to have followed them. Even the birds with their songs were absent. They were alone here; completely alone. There was little comfort to be found in their solitude however. There was nowhere for Jack to turn but to Ennis and Ennis didn’t know how strong he could be. But he had to try, he had to give everything he could to this moment, to this man. What else did he have?

Jack’s eyes scanned the names as though is disbelief or lack of recognition. An eternal moment passed before the building tension was let loose and tears began to fall from his eyes. The slow stream ran down his cheeks and fell from his chin. Ennis moved forward wordlessly and placed a light hand upon Jack’s shoulder in comfort. As if in reaction to the touch, Jack let loose a sob, a mix of tears and spittle flew forward with the force of it. Jack lurched forward with another sob. His balance was weaker than it had been a few moments ago and he looked as though he were about to fall any moment, as though the weight of this life, these memories, were too much for him to bear.

But he didn’t have to bear it alone; Ennis moved into the path of Jack’s fall and caught him, bracing the weight with his arms around him. Jack found balance against Ennis’s chest, his hands were balled into white-knuckled fists as he clung to Ennis’s shirt. The shaking sobs were too much for Ennis to handle with a brave façade any longer. His tears fell fast and silent as he held with all his strength.

“Ennis-” Jack gasped, the pain audible above all else.

“I know…” There was a hint of pain in Ennis’s words too, though he didn’t intend there to be. He would give anything to make this okay. To give him the peace he deserves, to give him a world beyond pain and suffering. But that wasn’t possible. The world was a cruel place and within it was suffering for all. Enduring was the only thing they could do.

The sobs died down before long and the two remained in the silent embrace for a short while. Jack began to shake more as the air grew colder but Ennis hadn’t wanted to break the contemplative silence. It was Jack who spoke first. “I want a moment alone with them…”

“Are you sure.” Ennis’s hands were running over Jack’s arms in an effort to keep him warm. Jack had been resting his head against Ennis’s chest and Ennis lent on him gently.

“Yeah…I just need some time to think.”

“Sure.” Ennis lent back, his grip on the Jack only slightly looser. He search the blue eyes for something, he didn’t know what. Jack only nodded. Ennis stepped past him and moved with quick steps to where the truck had been parked. He reached in to behind the driver’s seat where his spare coat had been stashed. As he walked back around the house to return to Jack, Ennis shook the coat lightly to free it of the dust and dirt that it had collected while tucked away.

Ennis slowed his steps as he walked up behind Jack. He lightly placed the coat over Jack’s shoulders and left his hands there for a moment. “I’ll be in the house if you need me.”

“Thanks.” The word was barely audible but it was enough. Ennis stepped back as Jack pulled the coat tighter around himself.

The day was ending and the sky’s pale blue began to fade to darker shades as the night drew closer, bringing with it colder air. Ennis thought to himself that they would need to return home soon, where there was food and warmth.

Home. The thought of it almost made him smile. He didn’t, of course, even inside the house his thoughts were sombre. Ennis rubbed his hands over his face in exasperation as he thought on the philosophy that got him through all that time without Jack: Planning for the future is a luxury for those who have something to live for. Taking it a day at a time is how he would survive.

But perhaps he, too, could afford to have such luxury. After all, he had found his reason to be happy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I finally made it! Chapter 8!
> 
> Not long until the end of our journey and boy has it been fun writing this. But however much I love to write, real life always finds a way to soak up all of my time. I don't want to make any promises about writing more and uploading regularly but I will promise that this fic will, one day, be complete!
> 
> I would like to thank you, sincerely, for your patience during my extensive and multiple hiatuses and I hope that you enjoy reading this work as much as I enjoy writing it.
> 
> And for those of you just tuning in: welcome! I hope that you've liked the story so far!
> 
> Don't forget to review, share and more importantly: enjoy!
> 
> See you in chapter 9,
> 
> Mason


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